"Then I'm staying with you."

If I thought Annabeth was closed off before, she rivaled fort Knox right about now, if fort Knox could manage to be on full lockdown while also having it's jaw hanging open in shock. Not that I really blame her. I had just said what was quite possibly the worst combination of words to ever come out of my mouth, given the circumstances.

Of course, it didn't take long for her to start looking ten different kinds of pissed off at me.

"Hades, no."

I couldn't even begin to question her choice of words, mostly because I was still reeling from my own. God, I'm stupid.

I wondered idly if I should start using 'gods' instead of god, on account of Greek myths apparently being real and still sort of around. We hadn't exactly talked about the gods yet, so I wasn't sure, but she did mention Zeus so- Wait, shit, now's not the time to take the long stroll down ADHD lane, I'm just sitting there looking like even more of an idiot than I already made of myself.

I winced. "That came out wrong,"

"There's no other way for it to come out," She snapped, shooting me a glare that could have made a rioter go sane with fright. "the answer is no."

"You already said that." I grumbled.

"And the answer is still a resounding no. Hades, no. Tartarus, no." She crossed her arms like the conversation was over or something, but kept on glaring at me without so much as blinking, which was kind of creepy and intimidating.

I rubbed my hand against my face and sighed. Maybe I could pray to the Greek myths for patience. There had to be a Greek god for that, they had a god for practically everything. I wonder- no! focus goddamn it.

"Look-"

"No."

I scowled. "I just-"

"No."

"Would you-"

"No."

"Can I-"

"Stop? Yes, you may."

"Annabeth, could you-"

"No."

"For fuck's sake,"

"My sentiments exactly."

I grit my teeth and I could feel anger rising in my chest. I know that post-apocalypse isn't exactly the time where second chances come cheap, but she was being ridiculous.

We held each-other's glares in silence for god knows how long, but eventually I realized that this angry staring contest wasn't getting me anywhere, especially when she was totally kicking my ass at it. I was starting to wonder if Annabeth even needed to blink.

"Anna-"

"No."

I threw my hands up in the air and slapped them on my thighs as they dropped them back down. The clap echoed uncomfortably through the silent cabin. I shifted back, rolling my shoulders in order to relieve a bit of the tension that locked them together. I clenched my jaw, trying to wrestle against my anger as I tried to think of a way to get her to listen for more than a half-second.

What on earth did I do to deserve this? I wondered, running a hand through my hair out of exasperation. I just wanted to stay the night in my cabin, but instead I get snake women, an very snippy blonde girl, and a dwindling chance of being able to sleep in my cabin.

"Funny, I've been wondering the same thing." Annabeth commented dryly, pulling me from my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow at her until I realized she wasn't just throwing out random statement, and she was actually responding to me.

"I… said that out loud, didn't I?" She curled her lip up and nodded, shooting me a look that screamed 'I'm pretty sure you're subhuman'. I wanted to snap at her but then it hit me, that if I had said that to loud, it meant I had finally said something without her interrupting me. Twice, actually. Internally, I shrugged, might as well roll with it. "Well, at least we can agree on that, then."

Her face fell, like the very idea terrified her more than the snake women. "Agree on what?"

I shrugged. "This situation sucks."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "We think that for completely different reasons that are in direct opposition to each-other."

"Does that really matter?"

"Yes, because you think this sucks because I said no. I think this sucks because you keep asking. Stop doing that, by the way."

"I don't see why it's such a horrible suggestion." I huffed, running a hand through my hair."I get that I was over the line for just saying it like that, but, am I really that horrible?"

She looked at me like a teacher who had been just given a joke answer who definitely wasn't looking for one. It reminded me of middle school, except my answers weren't jokes, they just sounded like them. "It has nothing to do with you in particular, it's just a bad idea no matter what. We've known each-other for, what, about an hour at this point? If you survived this long as a-" She stopped short.

"What?"

She waved me off. I scoffed, but didn't even bother pressing. It'd get me nowhere, anyways. "Nothing. If you survived this long then I'd expect you to not just blindly trust the intentions of every person you've known for an hour. I'm certain you've had to interact with someone for at least that long in the past four months."

She wasn't wrong. I could recall more than a few instances where I'd spent time with people without any violence or bad blood shared between me and them, but things were never really anything less than tense. I remember one time I had taken shelter in a Chinese food place while a group of rioters were going ballistic outside for nearly two days. I was stuck there with a 20 something year old college student named Liz and her eleven year old little brother Jeff. We made a barricade together and set up a sleep schedule so someone would always be awake, and talked a little bit (mostly Jeff talking to me.) but when the coast was clear we barely even said goodbye to each other.

I wondered how they were doing now. I had overheard them talking about going to go to California once. It had been almost three months ago when we had gotten caught together, so I guess they were probably either there by now, close to it, or dead.

Of course, that situation had been entirely different. Liz was none-too subtly brandishing a hunting knife at me at almost every opportunity. Didn't exactly scream trustworthy as much as screamed how she would have no problem gutting me like a trout if I stepped one foot out of line.

Liz was pretty scary, now that I thought about it.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I have." I fixed my eyes to the knife I had tossed to the ground and then to her. "But, they didn't disarm themselves when they talked to me."

Her eyes went to the knife, her mouth twisted like she didn't have a proper response to that. She shifted uncomfortably as she stared at the knife, her mouth opened wordlessly for a second,

"I have no proof that you're not armed with a different concealed weapon. It wouldn't be unreasonable for you to try to lull me into false sense of security with a disarming gesture." She eventually reasoned.

I squinted at her, my mouth hung open slightly and shook my head. "Did you even believe what just came out of your mouth?"

She stayed silent, instead covered her mouth with her hand and propped herself up on her thigh, hunched over like that famous sculpture of the naked thinking dude. I picked at the creases of my battered jeans silently. I don't think we had been able to talk for more than five minutes without one pissing the other off, and I had to wonder if knowing the truth was really worth all this aggravation.

I clenched my jaw, narrowing my eyes at the little rips that had begun to form on my jeans. I wish I had taken some pants with me before I decided to leave Manhattan.

"Why do you want to… stay, anyways?" Her voice came out muffled, so I couldn't tell what her tone was.

"If I tell you, will you let me?" She raised an eyebrow, nonplussed, and I shrugged. "Worth a shot." I breathed, leaning back, scratching idly at my face. I needed to try to shave.

"Well," I said slowly, unsure of where to start or if I should really tell her every reason. "I want to know the full story of how the world ended. You seem to know what happened, and I doubt I'll ever be lucky enough to find someone else who knows. It's not like I can go around surveying people about weather or not Greek myths are real- people'd think I'm a rioter or something."

She made a face. "A rioter…?"

I blinked. I guess not everyone used those terms. I rubbed the nap of my neck, a little self-conscious. "Yeah, you know, rioter. The people who went crazy from being part of the riots and never stopped being crazy, not all that many left, since the riots turned on themselves, but most people kill them on sight."

Her expression, from what I could see of it, was unreadable. "Right…"

"People only kill them because they think that the craziness is contagious or to put them out of their misery." I said quietly as a slight and unpleasant wave of nostalgia struck me. There were a lot of rioters running around just a few months ago, some of which I even recognized. I shook my head "Uh, anyways, that's not important.

"Aside from all the Greek myths stuff, our chances of survival are better if we have someone else to watch our back, you know? I got sick once. It sucks, trust me. With someone else there, you can focus on getting better and only getting better while they can take care of the more difficult stuff. And, uh, there's some things you might not be able to do with only one person, but with another person it's possible…" I scratched my head. I was starting to feel like a 3rd grader talking about his show-and-tell project, nervous energy in my gut included.

"You seem like the type of person who would join a survival group as soon as you had the opportunity to." She commented dryly, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Well, I didn't," I sighed, a slight edge pin-pricking into my tone.

"Why?"

I got the impression that she did notice the fact I didn't want to talk about it, but decided that she would ask anyways. "Maybe I'll tell you if you let me stay."

She squinted, shooting an unkind smile my way. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that interesting."

I raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that mean you think I'm interesting?"

"In the sense that you would find any lunatic, yes. That doesn't mean I want to be around a lunatic, or a rioter, for that matter."

Well there goes my hopes, shot dead and buried in two sentences. I scowled at her. "I'm no rioter."

"Oh, sorry, I thought rioters were crazy people who did crazy things, like, say, suggest two people form a partnership based on one life-or death situation and a discarded butterknife. You seemed to fit the definition."

I made a growling noise in the back of my throat. It wasn't very friendly, but then again, neither was she. "Do you have a smartass reply for everything?"

"Do you know how to tie everything to your stupid suggestion?" She shot back.

"The suggestion that could one day save both of our lives? Yes."

"No, the stupid, unnecessary, selfish one that I already shot down because it's a ridiculous idea."

I reared back, anger rising in me again like I was a hot air balloon. "Selfish?" I stammered, gaping.

She cross her arms and glared a hole into my head. "Yes, selfish. Every single reason you listed was just something you would benefit from. You want to know why western civilization is dying. You want someone to be around to take care of your sorry ass in case you get sick. You want someone around who can make sure you don't get stabbed in the back in a fight."

"I'm thinking about Survival!" I shouted, leaning in closer to her in a totally not friendly Percy-you-idiot-what-are-you-doing-you-need-her-to-like-you sort of way, our noses inches from each other, and both of our faces screwed painfully in anger.

"No, you're thinking about your own ass, and your own wants, and nothing else." She hissed back at me, her finger poking me in my chest. "You know, now that I think of it, it's probably a good thing you didn't join a survival party, because you'd probably have gotten them and yourself killed because you were only thinking about yourself and did something stupid. I think that's more than enough reason to never want to partner up with someone like you. I hope no one has to suffer through that misfortune."

I was breathing heavily and my face burned with about ten different feelings. Anger, shame, regret, and that little annoying nudge that reminded me Annabeth was pretty, to name a few. I gulped down the sensation and grit my teeth to keep it down. "'There a problem with thinking about your own ass?" I asked slowly, my voice tight.

She scoffed, making no effort to hide her disgust. "Please. As if you ever think about anything else other than your own ass."

My stomach felt like a nuclear bomb had just been detonated in my lower intestines, swirling with with noxious fury. I didn't say anything, not trusting my verbal filter to hold against the tons of raw sewage that threatened to burst from my mouth if I started talking. She didn't give a flying mythological fuck about me, or what I wanted, or what I've been through, but she was more than willing to judge me from what little she did know. It reminded me of the teachers at most schools I went to.

No tolerance, no second chances.

Stiffly, I rose up from the bed-my mom's bed- and slowly put on my jacket, and slung my backpack over my shoulder not sparing another look at Chase. I bent over, grabbed the pocket knife I had thrown to the floor, and slipped it back in my pocket, before heading for the door.

"You're welcome," I muttered with a shaky breath, and swallowed. "for the bandages." I hunched over and trudged out of the room- and all the way out of the cabin.

The second I closed the door behind me, I punched the cabin wall so hard, three shingles fell off.

It felt like I was breathing pea soup as I grit my teeth together so hard my ears started to ring, however that works, I had to wonder just a little bit. I leaned up against the cabin and pressing my forehead against the wood, because otherwise I'd be banging my head against it, and I didn't need another reason to have a migraine.

I seriously fucked that up.

But, can you blame me? Chase was absolutely intolerable. People write books and study about people like her. I think it's called something like, oh, demonology, or something.

So, sure, I wasn't thinking about her or what she wanted. Big whoop, I barely know her. How am I supposed to know what she'd want, anyways? But did that stop her? Like hell, if anything, it seems like she took personal offense to me not knowing how to tickle her pink or something.

And on top of that, she was wrong. I didn't give her my bandages so she'd owe me or something, if that's what you're thinking, I just did it because she was hurt. No, it doesn't make sense, but I didn't really think about it much either. I'm impulsive. I just do things.

"Fuck…" I breathed, kicking the cabin for good measure. I should probably stop assaulting my cabin.

Eventually, I pushed myself away from the cabin. The sun had just set, by the looks of it, and I could already feel the temperature dropping as night started to creep in on the horizon. I was going to need shelter, and fast.

Well, my cabin is pretty much the last place I'm going to be sleeping tonight. This day sucked a lot more than usual.

My eyes drifted to the sister cabin of my own, and I sighed.

I'd been in there once, when I was younger. A newlywed couple had invited me and my mother over for a dinner while they were on a vacation. They both had wanted a kid, and they spent a lot of time fawning over me and talking to my mom about raising me. The memory was a little hazy, me being only five at the time, but I think the cabin had the same layout as mine, which, hopefully, meant beds.

Granted, I would need to get in first, but that was a small detail when I considered the possibility of a bed. Even if I would probably be plagued with pangs of nostalgia throughout the night reminding me that I wasn't in my cabin, the idea of a bed was too good to resist.

I took a quick look around for any straggling snake woman or anything more Greek than a salad, before walking up to the sister cabin.

From a glance,it was a bit more run down than mine. More shingles littered the ground around the cabin, and one of the windows had a bunch of cracks running through it. It would probably be easy to break, if I had to. I peered into the cabin though the broken window, and I groaned as I felt something in my chest shrivel up and drop to my feet.

The inside of the cabin was a disaster. Half of the furniture that should have been there, well, wasn't. I could see random junk strewn about the room, which told me the place had been looted quite thoroughly. Most of the stuff that was still there was electronics and books and picture frames. A bunch of junk that lost it's purpose months ago.

I reached out to the door, and turned the handle, and it creaked open slowly, like it had just been woken up from a deep sleep. This time, there was no one in the cabin, as I stood at it's entrance just me, and the remains of a dusty cabin that had been gutted of anything worthwhile.

It was more than just a little sad, it was downright depressing; It reminded me of one of the abandoned buildings in Manhattan, but far more… still. At least the abandoned homes there still had the remnants of life lining them-it was the city after all-rats were everywhere, as well as other little pests, and you could hear the sound of other people in the distance most of the time, even up until I left. But the cabin was lacking in anything that remotely reminded me that just four months ago, some family was probably living here and enjoying the last days of summer vacation together. It was a husk of what used to be a getaway from life, where people could spend their best days, plan children together, eat great food, and sleep til' noon. Now it was necessary shelter from the cold, and nothing more.

After lingering around the door frame for at least a minute, a sharp gust of ocean air urged me inside. I closed the door behind me and scanned the living room. An armchair was upturned and had started collecting cobwebs. I took a step inward, a soft crunch startling me and sending me jumping back into the door. I looked down and saw broken glass lying on the floor, and it only took me a second later to find the toppled over and broken lamp.

"Christ…" I muttered running my head through my hair and pushing it back. The snake women had set me more on edge than usual, and the fact that there were more monsters probably lurking around, well, that wasn't a comfort, either. Crunching the light bulb even further I walked deeper inside to the kitchen.

The tablecloth was gone from the table, definitely now someone's makeshift blanket. The chairs were strewn about the room, and it looks like one was missing. What someone could do with a chair, I'd never know.

I ghosted my hand over the table, leaving steaks in the dust with my fingertips, as I took in the kitchen. Several cupboards were open, and I had no doubts that they were all empty. Even if I was more stubborn than most looters, I knew a lost cause when I saw one. Instead, I moved to the stove, and started fiddling knobs. It was an old-fashioned gas stove, and If I was lucky, there might still be a little bit of fuel left in there. The stove was silent no matter how I fiddled with the knobs, and I took a few experimental sniffs, and was not met with the noxious smell of gasoline. Whoever had been here last had tapped the stove out.

Shaking my head from the delusions of sleeping somewhere above 50 degrees for a night, I walked away from the kitchen and towards the hall the connected the bedrooms. I briefly considered going to the larger bedroom that mirrored my mother's… The very same one Chase had taken to.

I scowled, and walked into the room that mirrored my old one.

Praise Jesus, and the Greek myths too, I guess, there's a bed. One with a bare, obviously bloodstained mattress, but a bed. I could be concerned about the bloodstains tomorrow. The rest of the room was still torn apart, dressers ransacked and, oddly, a few seashells on the ground, mostly broken.

The bed was old-looking, and the mattress was more than a little lumpy, but it was way better than the floor or a flattened out cardboard box that I was more accustomed to nowadays. I slung my backpack off my shoulders and tossed it on the bed.

Ducking out of the room, I figured that I had better at least do a quick once-over of the Cabin. Some things might be useful to me, but worthless for someone who was traveling.

The bathroom that was further down the hall offered nothing of value. The shower curtain was gone, and the medicine cabinet behind the mirror contained a single cue tip, which was used.

When I closed the medicine cabinet, I grimaced. I looked terrible. My hair was lifeless, choppy, greasy, and far more tangled than usual. The scruffy monstrosity growing on my face was painful to look at, an odd combination of too long and not mature enough to be thick. I could hardly even call it a proper beard.

I'd never been a big fan of how I looked to begin with, but now I just looked awful. It's not that I was ugly, I just wasn't attractive. I think the fact that I had, unfortunately, inherited my dad's dull, brown eyes. I don't think they fit my face. I would have much preferred to have inherited my mom's bright, blue eyes. The fact that she would say I had his eyes never sat right with me in general.

I shook my head, and backed out of the bathroom, all the way down the hall to the room that mirrored my mom's.

First thing I noticed was the rug. I could totally use that for a blanket tonight, which was awesome. Second thing I noticed was the mouse, which was less awesome, but he darted across the the room in barely a blink. I just had to hope that this place wasn't infested, and keep my backpack closed at all times it wasn't in my hands.

The room felt lonely. The Queen size bed, even stripped of everything sans the mattress, should have looked more inviting than the single-sized one in the other room, but for some strange reason, it didn't. It felt like I was looking at a slab of concrete rather than a bed. Cold and uninviting.

This room seemed dustier than the others, which made me think that the previous residents hadn't made much use of it, either. It was actually starting to give me the creeps. It was a far cry from my mom's room, despite the identical layout.

Knelt down, and started rolling up the rug, eager to leave the room, and slung it over my shoulder. The musty smell of the rug nearly made me gag, and I was quick to take it off my shoulder, back into my hands. This thing needed some air.

Taking in a deep gulp of relatively clean air, I threw it back over my shoulder and hurried to the front door, and yanked it open. I let loose the carpet, and started airing it out, shaking it forcefully to get the most of the musty sink out of the fibers as I could. I glanced out onto the waterfront. It was completely dark now, sans for the dim illumination the almost-full moon provided, along with the thousands of stars that now lit up the night sky. I had never seen so many stars in the sky as I had since the world ended. It reminded my of Manhattan, in a way, like all the lights of the city had moved to the sky when the city fell into ruin.

So the world ended, my mom and Paul died, I'm homeless, Winter is coming way too fast, Greek myths are actually real and want to kill me, and I'm basically at the mercy of the blonde menace named Chase. But, hey, the stars are pretty. I thought bitterly, rolling my eyes.

After a good solid minute of flapping the rug into the open air, I was brave enough to take a whiff. I made a face. It was no bed of roses, but it wasn't completely unbearable, either. I rolled the rug back up, and headed back inside, closing the door behind me, and walked back to the bedroom I was using.

I unrolled the rug on my bed, picking up my backpack as I did so until it was fully uncurled. It was huge, so it kinda hung awkwardly off the sides, far too stiff to hang like a real blanket, but it was still the best thing I'd seen in weeks.

I zipped open my backpack as I flopped down onto the bed, and fished out a granola bar that only felt slightly obliterated from the collision with Definitely-not-Mrs-Burtshulk's face, and made a face. Oats and honey. Again. I seriously should have conserved the fruit-filled ones a little better. One can only eat oats and honey so many times before it starts to taste like sawdust.

Funneling the crushed pieces of granola into my mouth as I opened the wrapper, I laid back in the bed with a sigh, and only one thing on my mind: Chase.

My brows furrowed immediately and a stone landed in my stomach that boiled my insides. It took serious willpower to not crush the rest of the granola bar in my hand.

On one hand, I can get where she's coming from, but on the other, I couldn't help but feel insulted. My suggestion wasn't that bad, honestly, and, yeah, maybe I was thinking of myself, but it's not like anything I listed couldn't potentially be helpful to her, aside from learning about the Greek stuff. One day she'll get sick and then she'll have to be the one stuck quivering in an alleyway, praying to her Greek gods that no one finds her. That'll show her.

Sadly the thought wasn't very satisfying.

Letting my mind wander, I couldn't help but wonder what it was she was doing up here anyways. She seemed pretty no-nonsense to me; the type of person who would have headed south months ago in wake of the oncoming cold. Maybe it was some crazy Greek myth thing.

Maybe she was a crazy Greek myth.

I shook my head, scoffing. Now that would really be something. Being kicked out of my own cabin by a myth come to life. No, Chase had the crazy part down pat, but I don't remember any Greek myths about shrill, aggressive blond girls who steal your cabin and stab you regularly.

Scarfing down the granola bar, I rooted through my backpack again until I fished out a water bottle, and quickly drank the whole thing. I wasn't worried about conserving it. I had another, and I could refill it tomorrow at one of the lakes in the national parks.

I tossed the empty bottle haphazardly into my backpack, and pulled myself under my makeshift blanket, not bothering to take off my jacket or shoes. The rug was itchy, even with all my clothes on, incredibly stiff, and still a little musty, but it was also warm enough to keep on me.

I realized, of course, that come tomorrow, I would have to go back to my cabin and try to talk to Chase again. The thought was dreadful enough to make me wish for sleep to come quick just so that I wouldn't have to listen to every single ADHD cell in my brain prattle on about the infinite amount of ways it could go while breaking off into non-sequitur tangents, not when I barely wanted to go back in the first place.

But, at the same time, I had to. I couldn't just leave without knowing the truth, and not while Chase was still squatting in my cabin. Some things are worth toughing it out for, especially when it's for my mom.

Tomorrow, I would try again. Chase was about to learn firsthand exactly how determined I could be.

AN:... Hey.

SORRY!

Yeah, so, I know I said I would be updating once every two weeks, or at least trying to, and this is... about five weeks later. In actuality this chapter took about three weeks to write, but my laptop broke on me the day after I posted the last chapter, leaving me high and dry for about two weeks. I'm not THAT bad, gosh. Set your expectations to ~2weeks and keep 'em that way unless I say otherwise. Stay frosty. Unless you're with me in New England, in which case, warm the fuck up, the snow must be destroyed.

PS: I will now be updating my progress on the next chapter on my account profile, so if you're curious on how it's going at any time, just check my profile to get a general idea of where I'm at.